


And the Earth Spins On

by TheFalconWarrior



Series: And the Earth Spins On [1]
Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and the Signal (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: (he's trying his best), Alfred is a good...grandpa?, And so is Barbara, Bruce is a good dad, Cass is a good bro, Damian is an Artist, Dick's a good bro, Duke's a good bro, Family being Family, Gen, Jason is family, Steph is DONE with this, Tim is (mostly) okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFalconWarrior/pseuds/TheFalconWarrior
Summary: Tim breaks the fourth wall but not really, Damian does art, Steph hails in the new semester, and Bruce survives another night.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Damian Wayne & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Duke Thomas
Series: And the Earth Spins On [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902922
Comments: 5
Kudos: 63





	And the Earth Spins On

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted in over a month. Wow! Anyways, I'm starting another short fic collection. I've got myself a prompt list and I thought I'd mention, if anyone's interested, I'd love to take requests. More notes at the end :)

**_Part 1:Tim Breaks the Fourth Wall (But Not Really), ft. Dick and_** ** _Duke_ **

“D’you ever wonder if we’re just characters in a story?” 

Duke looked up from the files he was updating. Tim was sitting on the other end of the couch, legs kicked up on the cushions and socked feet a pillow away from Duke’s own, laptop balanced on his knees. 

“What?” 

“You know,” Tim said, without looking up. “Everyone in life has a story, right? But maybe some of those people are main characters with starring roles and stories and some people are just...side characters.” 

Duke blinked, slowly. 

“I think I’m a side character,” Tim murmured. 

Duke cleared his throat, a little creeped out. “Uh, you okay man?” 

Tim huffed a laugh and glanced up to send Duke a crooked grin before he looked back down at his laptop. “Hah. Probably not--” he blinked, and started tapping again. 

Duke blinked again. Oh no, he was _so_ not equipped to deal with this. Keeping his eyes on Tim, he carefully shut his laptop, set it on the side table behind him, and slowly swung his legs off the couch. Tim didn’t move. 

“You good, Timbo?” Dick asked, dropping down onto the couch by Tim’s feet. Duke hovered by the arm. Tim looked up and raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You said you’re not okay!” Duke blurted out. 

“What? No! I said I’m just tired, I’ll be alright!” 

“You didn’t say that.” 

“Did too.” 

“Dude. You were going on about life being a story and you’re a side character.” 

“Yeah, and then you asked if I was okay so I said--” Tim froze, frowned. “Oh. Oops.” He looked up at Duke, face apologetic. “Sorry, man.” 

Dick sighed, and peeked into Tim’s laptop. “Started reading fiction again, huh Tim?” 

Tim pulled a face, and Duke raised an eyebrow. 

“Is that relevant somehow?” Duke asked. 

Tim scowled at his screen. “Okay, so I’m an escapist reader sometimes. And I...get really into books. Sometimes. And then...” he waved a hand vaguely. 

“Okay,” Duke said slowly. He glanced at Dick, then at Tim. “Okay, so that was a lot and I know if you’re gonna unpack all that you probably don’t want to do it with me around--” Tim opened his mouth but Duke went on-- “but Tim, bro, what the _hell_ makes you think you’re a _side character_?” 

**** 

**_Part 2: Damian Does Art, Starring Alfred and ft. Damian_ **

The honest truth is, Alfred only opened the book was because he had no idea what it was. 

He’d been cleaning the west wing of the manor, and whilst airing the cushions of the couch, discovered the leather-bound book tucked against the frame. 

There were a wide variety of leather-bound books within the manor, ranging from volumes from the library, to journals and sketchbooks that could belong to several people. 

Truly, he’d only intended to check for a name on the inside, and if he failed to find that, some small clue as to whom it belonged to, so he knew which bedroom to leave it in. 

There was no name on the inside cover. So he flipped to the first page. 

That was supposed to be it. But the image of Richard, with a look of surprise mingling with laughter and some dusty powder covering his hair and floating around his face (like the flour at breakfast three days ago), made him stop and just. _Look_. For a minute. 

Alfred knew, now, that this was one of Master Damian’s sketchbooks. His fingers itched to flip the page, but he knew his charges were all quite private people. He heard footsteps just as he closed the sketchbook, planning to leave it in Damian’s room. 

“Pennyworth!” Ah, speak of the child. Alfred turned. “I hadn’t known you were cleaning...” Damian trailed off, eyes on the book in Alfred’s hands. “You didn’t look inside, did you?” 

Alfred didn’t bother to stop his smile. “Only the first page, Master Damian, to identify the book.” He held it out, and Damian quickly paced forward to take it. “I’d recommend writing your name on the first page.” 

“I shall consider it, Pennyworth,” Damian said, a little brusquely, but Alfred could see the blush rising on his cheeks. 

“Although, Master Damian,” Alfred added, “You are quite the talented artist.” 

Damian turned to look at him, suspicion written all over his face. 

Alfred nodded, once, before turning away. His words had been completely honest. 

“Your grandmother, too, had enjoyed portraits,” Alfred mused. “I would find her sketches all over the manor.” On napkins, on sticky notes, in the margins of notebooks and books. Martha Wayne had loved drawing. Most the portraits Alfred had found had been of Bruce, he recalled. 

There was no sound, and Alfred turned, wondering if perhaps the youngest Wayne had somehow learned to sneak away without Alfred’s notice. But the boy was still standing exactly where he had been, sketchbook clutched in his arms, staring at the floor. 

He took a deep breath, then looked up, straight into Alfred’s eyes. “Would you like to see more?” 

Alfred blinked, trying to process Damian’s intent. Then smiled. “It would be an honor, Master Damian.” 

**** 

**_Part 3: Steph Hails in a New Semester (and Impending Student Debt), ft. Cass_ **

“ _Four hundred dollars_ ,” Steph hissed, flopping down onto the couch. Cass easily adjusted her own balance from against the sofa arm, keeping the smoothie _inside_ her glass where it belonged. “On _textbooks_ , that I am _renting_ , _not from the school store_ , no, this is AFTER scouring every reliable site I could for the cheapest damn price.” 

Cass hummed sympathetically, taking a long pull of smoothie before offering the glass to Steph. “Crazy.” Not that Cass would know, but Steph certainly seemed to think so. 

“I know, right?” Steph moaned, reaching out for the proffered smoothie. “And it _could have been lower_ , but no, you are REQUIRED to get three damn different homework softwares that you _can’t get for cheap_ , and that’s like, almost a hundred bucks each _right there_.” 

Cass eyed the smoothie, wondering if it would be rude to take it back, seeing Steph was too busy talking to drink it. “Wow.” 

“The thousands of dollars tuition is bad enough,” Steph went on, “And then the thousand dollars in fees—I'm not even gonna _use_ the campus gym, and I don’t plan on doing sports, why should I pay four hundred bucks extra? But at least scholarships can cover fees! But textbooks? None. Of. The. _Stupid._ Grants. Pay. For. Books.” 

“Stupid,” Cass agreed, making a mental note to tell Bruce to edit the details on the scholarships he managed. For now, though, she carefully slipped the smoothie glass from Steph’s flailing hand, smirking in satisfaction when the other girl hardly noticed, instead using the hand for an even more sweeping gesture. 

Cass settled the straw back into her mouth, and settled against the couch to listen to Steph vent. 

**** 

**_Part 4: Bruce Survives Another Night ft. Jason and Barbara_**

Bruce let out a sigh as the Batmobile pulled into the cave, swinging himself out of the driver’s seat and pulling down the cowl. He glanced at the screen of the Batcomputer, absently noting the trackers scattered over a map of the city. 

There was him. Batman. Bruce. Just entered the Batcave. 

Damian, Robin, in the Manor. Bruce had insisted Robin would not patrol tonight. Damian had a math test tomorrow. 

Duke. Signal. Upstairs, asleep, likely. Alfred had been on comms most the night. 

Alfred. Also in the Manor. Likely finishing up settling the Manor down for the night, so he could turn in as soon as Bruce dropped by to say hello. 

Dick, Nightwing, moving across the center of the city, likely headed home for the night. 

Tim, Red Robin, and Stephanie, Spoiler, over by Amusement Mile, probably hanging out like the teens they were. 

Cass, Black Bat’s icon steady in a corner. She was in Hong Kong. 

Barbara, Oracle, at the Clocktower. Kate, Batwoman at her home, and Jason, Red Hood... 

A voice crackled through the Batcomputer speakers, linked to the comm system. 

“Old man make it home alright, Red?” Oracle, the computerized monotone still managing to convey a dry tone. 

“You got it, O, I walked him to the door and everything.” 

Bruce shook his head, watching the icon begin to move away from the Manor. 

“Not staying?” he asked, and then paused once the words left his mouth. 

“Naw,” Jason said easily, and Bruce relaxed. Minutely. “Gonna crash N’s. I’m craving quiche for breakfast.” Bruce let himself relax all the way. 

“Ooh, I want some. Bring some over tomorrow.” 

“You got it, Ma’am.” 

Bruce shook his head. “Please don’t threaten your brother into making you breakfast.” 

“Aww, I’ll bring you some too, old man. To celebrate your surviving another night.” 

“Hmph,” Bruce grunted. 

“Really, B, for a man your age...” Oracle began. 

Bruce felt a small smile settle on his face as he dropped into the chair in front of the console, watching his children until they reached home for the rest of the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> SO. Usually what I do--or what I'd planned to do--was use each year's Inktober prompt list to write fics 'til next October. But apparently Jake Parker did a thing (I haven't had time to go through the details), and because I don't want to link myself with something possibly unethical, I went ahead and made my own list with a Random Word Generator.  
> Anyways, I'm putting the list in the series description/notes. I know fic requests seem to be a Tumblr thing and I d'no if anyone's even gonna want to request from me lol but. Might as well.  
> Anyways, prompt word list in the series notes, couple of my writing parameters too, might scribble ideas next to the prompts. Maybe. If anyone wants leave an idea/request thing in a comment anywhere in the series and I'll see it.  
> (Also, please excuse my awkwardness lol.)


End file.
